Broken
by damonandelenaforthewin
Summary: With everything that's happened to Elena Gilbert, it's surprising she hasn't had a nervous breakdown yet. But what if Founder's Day was the last straw, and that's exactly what happens? Delena in later chapters, cause i just can't keep them apart.
1. Aftermath

When Stefan finally arrived, he noticed three things simultaneously- the first thing being, of course, the hysterical Jenna, who was screaming and sobbing with abandon into the arms of Liz, the sheriff. The second was Damon, standing off to the side, not far from Elena, looking like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. And the third was Elena herself, sitting on the bench in front of her house, staring off into the darkness.

He approached Damon first.

"What the hell happened here?"

Damon eyed him with an unnamable expression, before pulling him out of earshot of Elena, who hadn't even seemed to notice Stefan had arrived.

"Katherine. She's back. She killed John."

Stefan's brow furrowed automatically.

"But- his ring- how is that possible? He should have just gotten back up."

But Damon was already shaking his head.

"Our girl knows the tricks of the trade, it would seem. She sliced off most of his ring hand before gutting him. Effective, but messy. Elena…walked in on it. But Katherine was already gone."

Stefan swallowed, staring over Damon's shoulder to Elena. She was still just _sitting _there. Not acknowledging anyone or anything. She wasn't even wearing a coat- she must have been freezing.

"Meanwhile," Damon continued, nodding to the police officers, "Jeremy decided it was a good time to _kill _himself. Swallowed a couple dozen pills. They already carted him off to the hospital, but they still don't know if he'll make it."

Stefan looked back to Damon, confused with his story.

"But- how do you know it was Katherine? If she was already gone when Elena walked in?" Stefan noted the palpable change in Damon's face. It seemed like he was almost…_ashamed_. Definitely nervous. But within seconds he returned to his serious demeanor.

"I know it was her. But that isn't what's important right now. Elena, she's…there's something…wrong with her." Damon turned towards Elena; both Salvatores staring at her with similar expressions of worry and confusion.

Stefan remained silent, knowing that whatever was wrong with her wasn't physical pain.

"She hasn't _moved, _Stefan. After the cops came and Jenna started crying and Jeremy was discovered…she came out here and she hasn't moved since. She won't reply to anyone, she won't talk. I don't even know if she's blinked."

Damon re-crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder at his brother, raising an eyebrow in a way that only Damon could manage, to convey distress. "I think she's _broken." _


	2. Accusations

Damon Salvatore was typically not the person you went to with your problems- in fact, for much of his existence, he _was_ your problem. That is, until he killed you.

But somehow, somewhere along the way, Elena Gilbert had found a confidant in him. She trusted him, and he'd always trusted her, even before he'd been willing to admit it. Something about the way she looked at him…even when she was hating him, she never managed to bring it out in her eyes. Her eyes gave it all away.

But now her eyes were blank; seeing, but unseeing. Elena hadn't moved or spoken, or acknowledged that she must be starving and freezing, in over an hour. And Damon didn't know what to do about it.

She'd helped _him_ see things, helped him rediscover bits of himself, of his humanity, without even trying. She was the reason he'd learned to give a damn. And now, all he wanted to do was help her- and he had no idea how.

She hadn't even flinched when he'd put his head to her chest, to make sure she was breathing properly. But that wasn't the most surprising part.

Damon had assumed that upon his saintly brother's arrival, Elena would have snapped out of it, and ran crying into his arms. But not a single tear has fallen down her face, not a single glance at Stefan had she allowed herself. He was starting to wonder if she was even still _in there_.

He watched as Stefan approached her sitting form, placing his hands on her shoulders. Damon stood a few feet away, praying that Elena would respond, even just a little bit. A twitch, or a word. _Anything_.

"Elena?" Stefan asked, his grip on her shoulders tightening. "Elena. I know you've been through a lot tonight But we can deal with this. Together. Like we always have. Don't give up on me, Elena. Elena, can you hear me?"

Stefan was pleading with her. _Pleading with a girl who cannot hear him_, Damon thought.

Damon took a sep forward. "Stefan."

Stefan turned to look at him.

Damon had been about to say, that they should just pick her up and take her inside. But Stefan interrupted him.

"Have you tried?"

Damon's eyebrow shot up in confusion. "Tried what?"

Stefan made a small noise of irritation. Concern for Elena was shortening his temper.

"Tried to get her to snap out of it. You're the one who found her in the kitchen, right? Maybe she'll remember."

Damon felt beyond bewildered as his brother stepped aside, motioning fro him to stand in front of Elena. He took a step forward, and crouched down so that he was eye level with her.

"Elena. You need to go inside. It's all over now. You can go inside now, it's over."

Elena stayed silent. Damon was about to stand, but all of a sudden Elena's right hand shot out, grabbing his forearm, keeping him in place. He looked back at her.

She was looking at him now, her soft brown eyes big and wet with tears that were finally surfacing.

"It will never. Be. Over."

Her voice wasn't like anything Damon had ever heard before. It held entirely too much pain for it to be the girl he loved, and yet, here she was, saying the words.

"She's gone, Elena. No one's going to hurt you," Damon said, enunciating carefully.

Elena continued staring, her eyes becoming colder with each passing second.

"Of course not. Because there's nothing left to hurt me with."

Elena abruptly stood up, not giving Damon a chance to respond. In truth, he wasn't sure how to respond. Elena began walking into her house, but Stefan followed her, with Damon close behind. Before she could get any further up the stairs Stefan began to speak, placing a hand on her arm.

"Elena, it'll be oka-"

"Don't _touch _me!" Elena screamed violently, wrenching her arm away from Stefan's touch. Stefan's face automatically fell, flinching from her outburst. It was so unlike Elena- and she was just getting started.

"And don't tell me it will be okay. Because none of this, is okay. All the people who died tonight, will not be okay. My brother, will not be okay. _My life is not okay_. And you know what?" Elena spat, the tears finally spilling onto her cheeks.

Her fury had caused both Salvatores to back up. For once, Damon was actually trying to make himself _unobtrusive_, as he watched a side of Elena he has never seen in horrified fascination.

"It's all because of you two. You brought this here. With every lie, with every death." Elena paused to look at them, her face a crumbled mask of pain and accusation. But neither brother tried to deny her claims.

"If either of you actually gave a _damn_ about me, you would have left before you ever _met me." _

And with that, Elena continued up the stairs, leaving the two dejected vampires in her wake_. _


	3. Arguing

After Elena's tearful outburst, Damon stood with Stefan in the foyer of Elena's home, not really quite sure what to say. There was no defense; everything Elena had said was right.

_But that isn't who I am anymore_, Damon wanted to insist, even as another part of him replied, _but isn't it?_

_A few good deeds and heartfelt intentions does not a martyr make you, _he thought savagely. _You're nothing but a monster who helped ruin her life._

Stefan raised his head, finally glancing up from his shoes and at Damon. "She's right," he said quietly, the guilt in his voice mirrored in Damon's own thoughts. "I have to make this right. We have to leave Mystic Falls."

Damon scoffed, looking at his brother incredulously.

"Are you kidding me, Stefan? Like it or not, this place is _crawling_ with vampires now. We might as well put up a welcome sign on Elena's front door, for all the protection she'd have_. I'm _not leaving her."

Stefan narrowed his eyes at his brother, taking a step closer to him, his jealousy battling for dominance amongst his other emotions.

"Right. Cause protecting her has _always _been your main agenda. I'm sure that's what you were thinking about when you were snacking on Caroline and snapping Vicki's _neck,_" Stefan spat. "And who's fault do you think it is that this town knows about vampires again?"

Stefan was a bit taller than Damon, but Damon refused to let himself be intimidated by anyone, let alone his _little brother_. He raised his head, a sneer across his handsome face, his blue eyes sparkling with anticipation of the metaphorical stab wound he would inflict upon Stefan's insecurities.

"At least _I've_ never lied to her."

Stefan's eyes darkened as a low growl sounded in his throat. But despite the fact that all Damon really wanted in that moment was a good fight, to work off some of the excess anger and guilt and energy, he refused. Thanks to vampire speed, he managed to catch Stefan's fist before it landed a hit to his face.

"Not here. We're not doing this _here." _Damon released Stefan's hand,and Stefan let it fall back to his side as stepped back, confused by his own anger and immaturity.

Damon took a step towards the front door, his hand on the door knob.

" I'm going to go check on Jeremy. _You _should probably see how Jenna and the sheriff are getting along. And then we've both got to go find Katherine."

_St_efan looked up at his brother, not sure where Damon was going with this.

"And then what? What do we do when we find her?"

Damon smiled, using his most wicked, sarcastic, sadistic smirk-the one he reserved for covering up any and all emotion.

"She's been invited in, Stefan. We do what we _have_ to."

*Author's note: Thank you, thank you, thank you! To everyone who's reviewed/read this story. I get all crazy when I see a new review alert, so don't be shy! :D and also, I'm sorry that the chapters of this story have been fairly short- it's just that the idea for this story hasn't fully formed yet, and I've just been writing as I get inspired and then throwing it up for people to enjoy. Sure not still exactly how the story arc will develop- but I will find a way to make it delena! Knowing Elena, she can't hate on the salvatores for long. And who on earth could say no to Damon? (:


	4. Confessions

**A/N: sorry it's taken so long for me to update! i've had horrible horrible writer's block. But i'm trying to get back into the swing of it, so here's the answer to all those who wondered if my story would feature Jeremy as a vampire or not. and before i forget- much gratitude for your reviews! you guys kickass**3

Jeremy's eyes burned. Why was it so bright? He didn't have fluorescent lighting in his bedroom…and then, he opened his eyes.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

Damon Salvatore was standing in front of the door to the room, arms crossed, glaring at Jeremy with a sharper glance that any vampire's fangs.

A hospital. I'm in a hospital. With _Damon_?

"How did I get here?" Jeremy asked, his voice weak and cracking. _Oh, god, my throat_.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you. Turns out, when you try to kill yourself with pain pills, they have to pump you stomach. Good thinking on that one," Damon replied, his trademark sarcasm laced with hints of true anger.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Jeremy managed to spit out, rubbing up and down his throat with his left hand, wishing away the pain.

Damon's expression faltered for a second, and he looked quickly to his side, as if Jeremy were talking to someone else. The moment of uncertainty only lasted a moment, though, and was by Jeremy's bed side in under a second, thanks to his vampire speed.

"Your sister and aunt are in hysterics because of what you did. Also, your Uncle John is dead." Jeremy's eyebrows raised in shock, but Damon continued.

"But I'm here to check on you, and to tell you what a _monumental idiot_ you are. Do you know what your death would have done to your sister? Or did you just not _care_?"

Jeremy didn't respond; his throat hurt too much to actually argue with Damon.

"Are you really _that_ mad at her? Or did you just forgot about her altogether?"

Damon finished with an indignant pant, clearly not accustomed to scolding people. But Jeremy still didn't say anything.

A few moments passed before Damon turned to leave, and as his hand gripped the doorknob, Jeremy finally spoke.

"I didn't try to kill myself," He said quietly.

Damon half-rolled his eyes. "_Really?"_ he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jeremy cast his eyes down, not sure to admit what he'd actually planned on doing.

"I had…I had a vial. Of Anna's blood. She'd wanted me to turn before…and i said no then. But after...it hurt too much."

Damon took a step back towards the bed, his black boots squeaking on the freshly waxed hospital floors.

"You were trying to _turn_ yourself?" He asked, almost not comprehending. He'd known humans who wanted to turn- Isobel was one example- but he hadn't expected it out of Elena's kid brother.

"You said I could turn it off," Jeremy whispered, his eyes going glassy. "Said I wouldn't hurt anymore. I had to try."

Damon really looked at Jeremy- took in his sallow skin, floppy hair, pained expression. The kid was messed up enough to try to give up his life for something akin to what Damon had lived for the past 145 years. And Damon himself was at least partially responsible for it, for turning Vicki. He shook his head as the empathy pierced him once again.

"Just because you can stop yourself from caring, _doesn't_ mean the pain is gone," He said emphatically, trying to make the boy understand. "You don't want to be what I am."

And with a whisper of air, Damon was gone.


	5. Solace

**A/N: longest chapter yet! ya know why? cus i loveee writing damon and elena :D**

Elena paced around her room, a thousand emotions rivaling each other to be first and foremost in her heart.

"You're angry," She said aloud. Talking to herself probably wasn't the best indicator of sanity, but she was too amped up to sit down and write in her diary.

After confronting Stefan and Damon, one of the two had apparently gone to check on her brother, because a text from Stefan told her he was going to be okay. She felt guilty for not having been the one to go see him first, but a part of her had simply given up.

"You're angry, and you're sad," Elena spoke again, running her fingers through her hair as she collapsed on the edge of her bed.

But Elena knew she didn't have it in her to remain angry at the Salvatore brothers for very long. She loved Stefan; and whatever she felt for Damon, that was strong, too.

"_If either of you actually gave a damn about me, you would have left before you ever met me." _

Her own words echoed back through her mind, and Elena could feel the sting at how unfair she'd been. Damon and Stefan were both accountable for their own actions, and their own mistakes. But she knew she couldn't blame them for their own existence. They couldn't help what they were, or that vampires existed. She could have had her mind erased of them along with Jeremy's after Vicki died, but she'd refused. In the end, it was all on her.

"And you don't know what to do," Elena whispered, as a tear slid down her face.

"About what?"

Elena's head went up, and she locked eyes with none other than Damon himself.

She didn't respond, she merely looked at him, and in almost a timid fashion, Damon sat down next to her on her bed.

"You don't know what to do about what, Elena?"

His voice was soft, caring, and for some reason she was reminded of the fear she'd felt earlier that night when she thought Damon was going to burn.

"About my _life_," She replied. She was surprised at the sarcasm that came out; it would appear that the more witty side of Damon Salvatore had begun to rub off on her.

"Well," Damon started, a casual tone to his voice. "You could start out by taking a shower. You reek of smoke from the flames. Not to mention cotton candy."

Elena recognized the sound she made in response to Damon's joke as a laugh, and she wondered how she was still possible of laughter.

"And then you'll eat something, because I know you're starving. And then you'll go to sleep, visit your brother in the morning, and all the rest will work itself out over time."

Elena eyed him, wondering how he could say it would be so easy.

"Three issues with that: One, my kitchen is still officially a crime scene, which makes it hard to cook dinner in. Two…I really should go see Jeremy tonight. And three, I don't know if I can sleep in a house where somebody was just _murdered_."

Elena stood up, and Damon watched as she resumed her pacing.

"And- and how can I even _say_ that? 'Somebody'? All nonchalantly? He was…my _father._"Elena pronounced the word father as if it were a phrase from a foreign language.

" I should be in _hysterics, _and all I've done since I found him was space out, and then attack you and Stefan for things completely out of your control."

Damon's brow furrowed at the sight of her so upset.

"You didn't _space out_, Elena. You had a breakdown. And everything you said to me and Stefan was true…although, if that's your way of apologizing, I accept."

Elena smiled weakly, leaning against her dresser. "So what now?"

"Now, I make a new plan. I take you to visit your brother _now, _you eat some _amazing_ hospital food, and then you can spend the night at the boardinghouse."

Elena sighed, finally noticing that Damon was once again holding her teddy bear. Damon had a way of taking her out of the chaos of her own mind.

"And I'm sure Stefan will be thrilled if I agreed to have a _sleepover_ with you."

Damon scoffed, a playful edge to his voice.

"Please. Unlike _you_ two_, I _still have my virtue. A sleepover of any kind, and you're taking the couch."

Elena mock-gasped, stealing the bear away from Damon before punching him across the shoulder with it. She though she heard Damon mutter "ow" before she sat back down, but she couldn't be sure if she heard right through her own laughter.

"How do you do that?" Elena demanded, turning to look at Damon just as he turned to her. Their eyes locked as he swallowed and asked, "Do what?"

Elena tilted her head. Maybe it was just the soft lighting of her bedroom, or everything that had happened that night, or everything that had happened in general- but Damon looked so much different than he had when she'd first met him.

His eyes were still a light, piercing blue; his hair still a dark-colored mess; and his charm and witty banter was just as up to par as usual. But something seemed to glow about him now, giving him a softness and a strength that she didn't know he could possess. She wondered how he saw her.

"Make me forget. Make all of _this,_" Elena gestured with her hands, "Not seem so bad."

Damon clenched his jaw, a worried look crossing his face.

"I don't make you _forget, _Elena. I just take you away. Remember what I said in Georgia. Your problems will still be there when you get back. You just need five minutes."

Elena smiled, but Damon could see how tired she was.

"Now come on. We have brothers to visit, food to eat, and _naughty _sleepovers to arrange."

Elena stood up, consenting to Damon's plan. But in response to his words, she couldn't help but think, _Not to mention funerals. _


	6. Visiting

Elena sat beside Damon, a knot of anxiety, guilt, and worry growing ever larger in her stomach. With everything that had happened, she'd _completely_ forgotten that before finding Uncle John's body, she'd already been on the way to the hospital- for_ Caroline_.

She'd realized her mistake upon seeing Matt and Caroline's mother, the Sheriff, sitting together in the hospital waiting room, grim looks of desperation tainting their familiar faces. Ever since, she couldn't stop apologizing for being so late- it was nearly two am, now- even though Liz knew full well about Uncle John, having been at the scene before returning to her daughter, and didn't blame Elena in the least.

"She's still recovering from surgery, Elena" Liz had said, putting a motherly hand on her shoulder. "You couldn't have seen her yet anyways."

When Elena started tapping her foot from the impatience that was _also_ growing in her, Damon glanced at her, slight irritation marring his features.

"What are we _waiting _for, anyway?"

Elena turned to him to speak.

"The nurse said I couldn't go in to see Jeremy since he's been moved from intensive care, and it's past visiting hours. But she said she'd try to get special permission from the docto-"

But Damon didn't let Elena finish her sentence. He was already up and out of his seat, staring deeply into the hazel eyes of the young nurse .

"It doesn't matter that it's past visiting hours. You're going to let us in to see Jeremy Gilbert. And then you're going to bring _Miss_ Gilbert here a cup of coffee."

The blonde in the impeccably white scrubs nodded her head, repeating Damon's words in the trance-like manner of a human under compulsion.

"Damon, that was _completely_ unnecessary," Elena hissed as she followed Damon along the corridor towards Jeremy's room. "We could have waited."

"No, we couldn't have," Damon replied, flashing his trademark smirk. "How do you think I got in before? We weren't going to get permission. Besides, it's late. Or you could say, it's early."

Elena cocked her head, rolling her eyes, and gripped the handle to Jeremy's room.

But what Elena didn't know was what Damon wasn't telling her- that he had a reason for his haste. He had to get back to Stefan and Alaric, who were already at the boardinghouse preparing to hunt down Katherine. Elena didn't know that her undead doppelganger was her biological father's murderer- she'd unceremoniously kicked out Stefan before he could tell her what Damon knew, and Damon figured that particular conversation was _the boyfriend's _job.

_Sorry I didn't tell you, honey, but my ex is pretty handy with a knife. _

Damon's mouth twisted into a wry smile at his own thoughts, as he watched Elena reunite with her brother. After a few heart-wrenching moments of sincere emotion that Damon was trying to block out for Elena's privacy- and because he could only take _so much_ teen angst- they were back out the door and on their way to the boardinghouse.

"Damon," Elena said, as he drove alarmingly fast down the streets of mystic Falls.

"Mhhhmm?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

"What if Stefan doesn't accept my apology? I mean, it's his house, too, he might not want me spending the night…"

"Elena. We were going to ask you to come over anyways. For the same reason your Aunt Jenna is sleeping at the teacher's."

Elena's brow furrowd ion confusion, her body twisted towards him. "What do you mean? Jenna went over to Mr. Saltzman's because she _needed _someone- didn't she?"

"No. She went over there because that house is no longer safe to sleep in. Because whoever killed your- _Uncle John- _was…a vampire. They knew about the ring, to…make sure it wasn't on him. It was a vampire."

Elena took in a sharp breath. "Oh my God. Of course. Of course- who else- _founding families_- I can't believe I didn't realize it before. But how did they get invited in? Do you know who it was?" She asked frantically, her eyes searching Damon's.

He finally turned to look at her as he pulled his baby blue mustang into the driveway of the boardinghouse. "I do. But that question is really one you should save for Stefan."


	7. Revelations

**A/N: longest chapter of Broken yet! Sorry it took so long in the making- my heart broke *alert- bad pun* when reviewers started demanding faster updates- i just was having a hard time with my muse. But i think it has returned! At least for the time being, lol. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait- and to the reviewer who once said they liked angry elena, it's your lucky day. *winks* much love & thanks to whomever reads/reviews :D**

Elena and Damon walked into the boardinghouse to see Alaric and Stefan gearing up, Alaric's wide array of weapons spread out across the living room coffee table. Stefan looked up at Elena in surprise at her presence, and swiftly walked to her side.

"Why, Teacher, what shiny toys you have," Damon purred sarcastically, clapping his hands together as he eyed Alaric's nifty vervain shots and made his way to the bar. If he was going to watch Elena and Stefan sort out their lover's spat by whispering nauseatingly into each other's ears, find the ex-love of his life, and then _kill_ her…well, he was going to need a drink. Simple as that.

"All the better to kill you with, Salvatore," Alaric replied blithely, not looking up.

Damon's heart reached out to his chest, faking hurt feelings.

"_Oww_. I thought we were _over_ that phase in our relationship, Ric. Don't tell me you're abusive. Or maybe you're just kinky." Damon winked before throwing back a shot.

Alaric rolled his eyes; over time he'd become desensitized to Damon's wildly inappropriate sarcasm. He just kept along with his task, but Elena didn't want to hear it.

"Can you seriously be _joking _at a time like this?" Her voice held that self-righteous tone that Damon had at first been amused by, but which now made him feel ashamed, and her eyes were burning with the same intensity as the lit fire behind him.

_If looks could kill, it's a good thing I'm already dead, _Damon mused_. _

"Relax, Elena. We're going to get this done. No need to go on a rant. Just talk it out with your boyfriend, 'kay?"

And without another word, Damon was gone- presumably to find more weapons. Elena couldn't respond to th empty air, and she hadn't known what to say to that, anyways. So she allowed herself to be directed out of the living room, and before she could really process anything, she was standing with Stefan in his bedroom.

"Elena…I'm so sorry. For everything," Stefan said quietly, his eyes doing the angst-ridden, smoldering-guilt _thing_ they were so good at. A part of Elena melted at it.

"There's no need to apologize, Stefan. I was the one who was wrong," Elena said, wrapping her arms around Stefan's neck, and allowing herself to be reassured. But she couldn't help but wonder, as Stefan's arms tightened around her, about _Damon._

She should probably be accustomed to his mood swings, but after everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, she hadn't expected him to completely close off to her. How cold he had been just moments ago… _I told him to stop pretending like he doesn't care. I know he cares. I know it_. And then something even more pressing popped into her mind, and she couldn't believe she'd forgotten. She blamed it on exhaustion.

"Stefan," Elena began. Pulling back slightly to look at his face. "Damon told me you guys know who this was. The vampire…that killed my uncle. But that I should ask you. What's going on?"

Stefan sighed, letting go of Elena and crossing his room to sit on his bed.

"We do…and I should have told you earlier. It's Katherine. She's back."

Elena's eyes opened wide in shock, not sure if she'd heard him right.

"Katherine? She's back…back,_ why_? For Damon? Why would she- _why_ kill- oh, my God."

Elena sat down next to Stefan, grateful for the support the bed gave her. She didn't know if her own legs could support her anymore. She ran her fingers through her hair as she often did when she was stressed out, and she could feel Stefan's arm slide around her lower back.

"Damon told me that Katherine was the one orchestrating all of _this- _the Founder's Day plan_- _with Isobel. And, by association, John. For whatever reason, she wanted all the tomb vampires dead. Out of the picture. I guess since they were as old as her and us, they may have posed a threat…but we don't know for sure what her motivations were. And apparently, she wanted John out of the picture, too. He either angered her somehow- or-"

"Or what?" Elena interrupted. Stefan swallowed.

"Or he just wasn't of any use to her, anymore."

Elena couldn't believe her ears. "Wasn't any use to her anymore?" Elena screeched. She was so loud that even Mr. Saltzman must have had heard her, all the way from downstairs, and so obviously Damon had too- if he wasn't already listening in to the entire conversation. But she didn't give a damn.

"I knew she was selfish. I knew she wasn't kind. But what kind of a woman is she? What kind of a person kills people because they _aren't of use anymore_?"

"Not a person. A vampire, Elena. Or are you forgetting that?" Damon asked, strolling into Stefan's room as if he were taking a walk through the park.

Elena turned on him, her anger like a force of power around her, one Damon could almost see, could most definitely feel. Through all of Elena's good qualities, anger somehow seemed to be what made her strongest. That, and love.

"No. I'm not forgetting that, Damon. I just don't understand. Anna never killed anybody. Neither did Pearl, and neither does Stefan. And you- you've changed. So what makes Katherine different?"

Both Damon and Stefan were silent; Stefan with his head hanging in a mixture of shame and guilt; Damon standing defensively in front of her, his face a mask. Unreadable. Elena continued, her mind catching onto something.

"Or more importantly, what _is__n't _different? How could you- the _both of you-" _Elena paused to indicate Stefan, gesturing with her hands-"Fall in _love_ with her? As humans, how could you fall for someone so…._evil?"_

Stefan stood up at this, ready to reply to a question he actually had an answer for, even if the answer felt hollow on his tongue.

"I was compelled, Elena. I didn't know what she was or what I was doing. I didn't know until after."

Elena stared at him, _really_ stared at him, feeling for the veracity in his words.

Damon rolled his eyes; of course Stefan would blame compulsion. And of course Elena would believe him. It was a better option than letting her know the real truth- that deep inside, Stefan had had real feelings. And while he didn't rat his brother out just yet, he also couldn't lie to Elena. He wouldn't take the easy way out just to dissuade her disgust in him, however much it broke his heart.

"And you?" Elena asked, her eyes now pouring into Damon's.

_So like Katherine's_, he thought to himself wistfully. _And so very _not.

"I, on the contrary was not compelled. Never ever," Damon revealed, smiling sharply. "Being the self-serving, non-redeemable, psychopath that I am, I was attracted to her beauty, her charm, and her power. And _now_, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go shove a stake through her chest, so that you, Elena Gilbert, can sleep soundly in your own home. Self-serving, indeed."

And with that, Damon exited, allowing his boots to pound on the wooden floor on his way out as emphasis to his words, instead of using vampire speed to retreat.

"I know this is a lot to take in, Elena," Stefan said, grabbing hold of her hands with his. "But Damon's right. We have to get a move on. No matter how this all started, it's going to end tonight."

Stefan moved to leave, but Elena grabbed at his arm. "Stefan. How do you even know she's still in Mystic Falls? She could be a hundred miles away by now. How are you going to find her?"

Stefan pursed his lips, deciding how to answer.

"I've said it before; Damon doesn't get mad. He just gets _even._ And Katherine was the one who hurt him the most. Even if it's just for revenge, he'll find her. If it's one thing I can count on him for, he'll find her."

And with that, Elena was left alone again, to sulk in her own miserable life.

**A/N #2- so in this story, i've made it so Damon told Stefan the information he learned from Isobel when he confronted her in the foreclosed house. But what Elena doesn't know yet, is how long he's known, and hasn't told her. whaddya think the odds are that she won't be happy with him when she does find out he's been keeping secrets, AGAIN? place your bets noww ;) **


	8. Resolve

Elena sucked in a quick breath as she made her resolution.

_No more crying. No more crying. No more goddamn crying. _

She almost gasped at her own thoughts- she very rarely cursed, even inwardly. But it fueled her fire; filled her with a grim determination and renewed strength. She strode out of Stefan's bedroom and down the stairs, full of purpose.

Mr. Saltzman, Damon and Stefan all looked at her as she entered the living room; they were on their way out. She was just in time.

"I'm going with you."

All three men were silent, until-

"You _are_ insane," Damon hissed incredulously, his eyes wide in his own "Damon humor." Stefan threw him a look- he didn't know the significance of Damon's remark. But he didn't get a chance to question it.

"There's no way, Elena. You have no idea of how dangerous that would be," Alaric countered, gripping the stake in his hand.

"I don't care what either of you three say. I am going. And you know why?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Please, enlighten me."

Stefan's eyes, meanwhile flashed. "Damon, you're not actually considering- "

"Of course not, brother. But we might as well let the girl speak, or forever hold her…" Damon let his sentence hang suggestively, motioning Elena to continue.

"Because. While you three went off hunt Katherine- which she is more than likely expecting- I'd be here. All alone. In a house nobody lives in, which by definition, means open season for vampires. I'd be a sitting duck. Worse than a sitting duck- you might as well lay out the welcome matt on your way out."

Damon's right eyebrow immediately ticked up, the bewildered realization clear on his face. Neither of the vampires- or the vampire hunter- had thought of that possibility.

"She has a point," Alaric whispered, eying Stefan, whose face was a mask of conflict and concern.

"Yeah, _and_ a love of convoluted metaphors," Damon remarked, the sarcasm evident in his tone.

But Elena didn't back down. She crossed her arms for effect, stating her intent again.

"You all know I'm right. I'm going."

Stefan spoke next, his trademark cautiousness seeping into his voice.

"You are right Elena. You can't stay here. But you could go to Bonnie's, or Caro-"

"I already thought of that, Stefan. But Katherine looks just like me- and I'm sure she knows who all of my friends are, thanks to _Isobel. _Who's to say she hasn't already gone to all their homes and scored herself an invite?"

Elena took a deep breath and immediately regretted her words- she'd been unnecessarily harsh to Stefan, and she had almost sounded like…_Damon. _It was unsettling. Stefan paused, considering her words, while Damon merely smirked.

"Alright then, Xena. You wanna come along so bad? Try to keep up." And with that, he handed Elena a vervain dart, and strode out the front door, indicating for Alaric to follow him.

Stefan and Elena were stood alone together, but for some reason it made Elena feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. And then a thought popped into her head- a question she hadn't thought of before.

"Before…when you said that Damon told you…that Isobel was working for Katherine?" Elena stated, her voice lilting to indicate it was a question.

Stefan's brow furrowed as he asked, tentatively, "Yes?"

"When did he tell you? Just this past night, or- "

But Elena had her answer in Stefan's ashamed expression. "No. Of course not. You've known since before Founder's Day_. God_, Stefan, is there anything you _do _plan on telling me? Or do you just think I won't figure it out?"

"Elena, you know that isn't-"

"No," Elena said softly, tucking the vervain dart into her shoulder bag. "I don't know anything about you. I don't even know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did."

And with that, Elena walked out of the boardinghouse, towards Damon's car. As she sat in the front seat, Damon looked at her, eyes full of questions. Stefan was going in Alaric's car, so why was she in his?

"Why aren't you riding with-"

"Because I'm not. End of story, Damon."

Damon's eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing more. He did however notice that she seemed to be sitting awkwardly, her back not touching the seat. But what he didn't know was that it was because the vervain dart wasn't the only thing Elena was armed with. She'd brought backup, in the form of a stake, hidden underneath her shirt and tucked in the waistband of her jeans.

She was going to prove she wasn't a helpless child, after all.


End file.
